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22/11/2017

The first trimester, in a nutshell

If you haven't seen my post from the other day, Tom and I are having a baby - due in June next year.

We are both so, so excited - although if the remainder of the pregnancy goes as slow as this first trimester, it'll feel like an eternity to wait.

The first trimester has been weird, hard and all kinds of crazy.

Let me take you back, first, to finding out I was pregnant.

Towards the end of our honeymoon, I started noticing a few changes in myself. The main one? My boobs were growing at a rapid, rapid rate. To the point where I was genuinely starting to worry that people would think I'd had a boob job on the sly while we'd been away.

Everyday they seemed bigger than the day before, and they were starting to get quite tender.

I thought it was maybe just to do with general weight gain, and eating four desserts a night. I know this time last year when I put a bit of weight on, a lot of it went to my boobs.

Tom has, affectionately, started referring to them as "the canons"... I have to keep reminding him that when all this is over, they'll just look like balloons that you find at the back of the sofa months after a party.

I found out I was pregnant a few days after returning home from honeymoon. I went to Tesco and bought one of the ClearBlue digital tests, which spelled out in plain English whether or not I was up the duff. I didn't trust myself to work it out from how many lines I could see.

The first test I did confirmed what we'd suspected - pregnant. It estimated between two and three weeks.

I did the second test, just to be sure. And that said the same. Tom was still at work at this time, and I didn't want to tell him over the phone.

When he got home, he'd bought a test for me to do. I told him I'd already done two and the good news.

His first words?

"Yes, my balls work!"

I did the test that he bought me the next morning, as I read the hormones are stronger in your first wee of the day - and that said the same.

I rang the doctors straight away and they booked me in with the midwife.

I had my first appointment with her on my birthday - when she calculated that I was actually, roughly, seven weeks pregnant. They work it out based on the date of your last period, rather than from conception, which added two weeks onto the ClearBlue test indicator. Although, that in itself was a rough guide given I had literally only just stopped taking the pill at the end of August and didn't have a 'proper period'.

From there it was a waiting game until I got my letter inviting me for my scan. When I had my scan, it actually transpired I was a week behind the rough guide the doctors gave me, putting our due date at 13th June 2018.

It's been absolutely horrific keeping it a secret, particularly when morning, noon and night sickness kicked in good and proper.

Up until the weekend after my birthday, I just felt a bit nauseous on a morning. But this went off when I had something (aka a lot) to eat. It kicked in good and proper the Saturday morning, though, and I spent the morning feeling like I'd smashed 50 jager bombs and two bottles of prosecco the previous night.

Since then, everyday has felt like I've had a horrific hangover. It's been awful. And so hard to hide.

What other changes have I noticed?

Well, I've become the most paranoid, on edge person ever. This is probably going to be too much info, so I apologise in advance (just fast forward to the next paragraph if you don't wanna learn more than you need to about me!) I've been continually worrying that any cramps or moisture downstairs meant bad news. I must've taken ten extra trips to the toilet each day - in addition to all the extra ones for all my extra wees - to check that the moisture I was feeling was not blood. I was terrified about telling anyone about our exciting news too early because I imagined how horrific the conversation would have to be if it was no longer there.

This paranoia was heightened, I think, because I got pregnant so soon after taking the pill. It all seemed too good to be true, for it to be happening first time. I know how long people try and wait, and how much heartache couples go through, and it just felt like we were too lucky for it to have happened so quickly.

Even the days before the scan, I was still on edge. I was so, so excited for the scan but terrified in equal measure. I have written so many heartbreaking stories at work about miscarriages, still births, pregnancy problems - you name it, I've probably written about it and met someone who has been through every mum-to-be's nightmare. I was just worried that something would be wrong.

It's amazing the bond you feel with something that's only the size of a profiterole.

So sickness, ginormous knockers and paranoia aside, the other main side effect of growing a person has been the tiredness.

I am always tired anyway. Tom always mocks me because I need at least eight to nine hours of sleep a night to function. Since falling pregnant? That's gone up to at least 10 hours, usually with a nap in the day. I'm in bed by 9.30pm - at the very latest - every night and I'm fast asleep before my head has even hit the pillow.

They do say, though, to get all your sleep in during pregnancy because it's much more difficult when the little one is here, so I'm really taking that advice on board!

I am genuinely so, so, SO excited to become a mum. Ever since I was little, I've dreamt of being a mum. I've always been the mother figure in my friendship groups - particularly at uni - and absolutely love kids. I am just so excited. But I'm also terrified that a real life actual baby will be dependant on me and Tom.

When I got to the final of Woman of the Year at Slimming World, I got a plant. It was dead within two weeks. Although, of course, I'm not going to go off to work and forget to water the baby!

So, oversharing all done and dusted for one blog post, that's where we are at.

I apologise in advance for many more TMI moments that are sure to come over the next six months.